


Hammerspace

by FictionDump



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionDump/pseuds/FictionDump
Summary: a kink meme de-anon from 2013."Any two of Bad Friends - Friendly Casual Sex".( https://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/82590.html?thread=510354590#cmt510354590 )





	Hammerspace

**Author's Note:**

> full request:
> 
>  
> 
> _Just what it says on the tin! I've always had the headcanon that prior to any committed relationship, the Bad Friends trio had plenty of casual sex with other nations, humans, and OF COURSE each other. And they probably had threesomes together but I'd rather NOT have this story about a threesome, just any two of them. I just want to be able to tell that while they may not have romantic inclinations for each other that lead to swooning and love declarations, they are good friends who can have a lot of fun together in bed._  
>   
>  _Bonus 1 - For France/Prussia, Spain is long lost to their beds in a relationship with Romano_  
>  _Bonus 2 - For France/Spain, they're very doting and coupley without actually being exclusive/in love/etc. They're just very close friends and being touchy-feely and doting is in both of their personalities._  
>  _(no bonuses for Prussia/Spain but I'd be happy to read it too!)_
> 
>  
> 
> warning for gratuitous use of metaphors and similes. original found [here](https://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/82590.html?thread=510354590#cmt510354590).

It all starts rather bluntly with an exasperated toss of the Wii remote and a bright and breezy “Let’s Fuck-“ The sofa being their first choice due to laziness, but being deemed a safety hazard after they find crumbs of stale chips between the cracks and on the collar of their shirts. Sex on the couch after movie and game night is never a good idea, they both concede after a very thorough scientific inspection. Serious looks and grim nods are had- Exit stage left, scene #2: Bed.

France is never one to turn down an offer to fuck, as the self-proclaimed nation of  _le amour._  Not that it means he was in a fucking mood all the time, per se, but it did mean that he would fuck a cactus if he ever felt like it.  _( How are you miss, your thorns are absolutely ravishing today! )_

It also meant that he wasn’t above being friends-with-benefits and doing the horizontal tango with them; after all, cactuses didn’t have mouths and it got boring after a while sitting in dark rooms with porn playing on the screen. ( Not that he ever did that. No sirree. )

( Not even with mademoiselle Cactus. )

( He had plenty people and enough charm to win them all over to bed, anyway. )

“You’ve really gotten rusty, France,”

( Not that he bedded all of them, despite popular belief. )

His partner drawls when they part for air; and a smile plays on Spain's lips. France rolls his eyes and instantly dives to Spain's jawline and sucks- and  _Spain,_ the open book he is, tries to keep in a ticklish laugh and moan but fails.

“Oh, look who’s talking.”

Sunlight plays on their skin and there is a trail of shed clothes from the couch to the bed. It’s a familiar mess that they both have seen plenty of times, and one that somehow always started with one of them losing a game of Mario Kart.

( And it’s worth to mention that it was Spain this time. Luigi versus Princess Peach. Luigi lost. )

“Shut up, at least I’ve had Romano.” Spain pouts against the grin threatening to grow. “I doubt you’ve gotten laid properly within the past few months.”

France doesn’t rise to the bait, Spain knows just exactly how many men and women France has wooed and slept with, hot love coiled under covers and blonde hair slick-shiny with sweat. The key, France had said sagely, was respect. Worked every single time.

“Romano, hm?” France smiles against skin as kisses are placed down the chest like dappled sunlight filtering through forests. ( And they _have_ been through such forests before, laughing and enjoying their peace after the storm they called politics, pretending to be normal people, just for a while, _just for a while._ ) “Am I supposed to believe that when you’re still blushing like a virgin?” Spain lets out a breathy laugh and kisses France’s crown; sliding a hand into soft golden wheat field hair and tugging lightly to bring him up for another kiss. Spain likes to kiss and so does France; their tongues are roses and candlelit dinners that occasionally turn into passionate flurries of bodies and red and dance. 

There’s a slowly rising tent in the boxers Spain is wearing, and France’s hand outlines it through the cloth.

 _“Oh- fuck-_  “

It’s just the way Spain likes it- ticklish and teasing, an attempt to cheer the somewhat downcast man up ( for if Spain was not a little ball of sunshine then something was clearly wrong ). Victory is sealed when Spain  _finally_  loses the battle against that smile and suddenly moves so that France is cradled between his legs, and  _grinding and oh that feels so delicious-_  Lips hungrily search for each other, and France finally tastes Sunshine and summer and  _Siesta,_ the wild nights and colorful dancing and  _this_  is why he loves these arrangement the three of them have, even if the third member was out wooing a certain frying-pan wielding woman at the moment.

A hand is slid between grinding hips and into France’s own boxers- France moans and bucks, and oh god, it feels so good. An order comes to strip and France complies with a breezy laugh  _( Were you that desperate? )_  and gets a harsh bite on the nipple as a return; and _that-_ is going to leave a mark.

The hand returns and strokes in broad gestures after he kicks his boxers off to the far corner. ( His aim is pretty good at the point. ) Spain still has his underwear on- and a taunting smile and a gesture of the other hand tells France what to do. France grumbles when the hand on his cock is taken away- but might as well get this over with….

Or not, because just because this was Spain didn’t mean he could  _tease._  Besides, how many times did he have the chance to show how mediocre the other was compared to  _him?_

Spain is lying down on the bed, propped up on his elbows, and France had been hovering over him but now he stretches, like a cat, ass perked up in the air and eyes half lidded and coy. A lick of the lips seals the bet and France purrs before finally biting delicately on the elastic and hooking his thumbs on the sides- and pulls  _down._

_Slowly._

Spain stifles a moan as the elastic drags down his erection and the friction is so sinfully  _delicious-_  the teeth scrapes and the hands are firm at this sides and Spain is whimpering from the friction and it’s  _only teeth and a rubber band._  France stops half way and gives coy smile #2, one that Spain knows altogether too well but the boxers still aren’t down and oh.  _Oh._

France’s mouth is wonderful.

France pries out the rest of the dick like a mother cat would carry a newborn kitten; with his mouth and tongue and slowly, carefully. The stubble scrapes, Veins are traced and the index finger and thumb circled around the base of his cock; Spain whines  _( I’m not even near yet! )_  but falls silent when there’s a upward curve of the lips and the fingers tighten around the base more; France knows he’s not near , but then again, France isn’t one to leave bases uncovered. France will let him come when he deems it the time.

The cock stands proud when it’s finally out and France wastes no time. Tentative and seemingly shy sucks are given at first at the tip and balls are enveloped by heat before Spain's dick itself is sucked in slowly millimeter by millimeter, his mouth a vacuum that felt so wonderfully tight and oh that tongue. Spain bucks into the mouth even as he tries not to; France gives an annoyed look, an eyeroll; and Spain offers a brilliant smile- France replies by  _taking it all in._

It’s not as good as Romano’s but it comes pretty fucking near to it.

Deep throating, they say, is an art and France takes that saying and hits Level: Abstract. Spain doesn’t quite get abstract art even if he’s seen it plenty times. He also doesn’t understand France’s tongue either with what it’s doing but it’s heaven with it rolling and tracing and his throat contracting and tightening and Spain thinks this is what fucking a black hole would be like. ( Romano, no doubt, would kill him first for that thought and then comment on how fucking stupid a simile that was, are you a fucking dick head? )

“God,  _oh- France-_  How the fuck do you- _ungh- Get your dick over here-_ “

France grins and complies _( but of course )_ , as Spain flashes a million watt grin and starts stroking and playing idly with France’s balls before poking at the tip with his tongue and deep throating it himself. He can’t lose to France-

France’s lets out a gasp in surprise. Then he retaliates by scraping teeth over and moving over to taking in  _his_  balls while stroking the length and then playing a melody on the oversensitive tip-

Spain growls and hums, all vibrations and nips at the tip with his teeth. France hums in approval around his dick.

France stops.

There’s a delicious pop and Spain frowns at the sudden cool air but there’s no time to complain as France turns around and he’s pulled up onto his knees along with France, a searing kiss silencing him. Their dicks are rubbed together; and both are pushed through a cool tunnel that France makes with his lubed up fingers after a familiar click of the bottle snapping open. ( As to where he got the lube, Spain would never know; but it was a general rule that in France’s house, lube was always within hand’s reach. )

( France calls it hammerspace and says it’s a prank England pulled on him once but forgot to undo. )

Spain breaks away from the kiss and bites down on France’s neck- France grumbles why he had to be stuck with the one that liked biting and leaving marks but doesn’t otherwise complain. ( Or stop. And that was the important thing. ) France’s slick hand slides down both of their cocks and tightens and god he is so close,  _so close-_

_-France’s breath is laboured and Spain can feel his pounding heartbeat-_

“Come with me.”

France says- And there’s that moment of bliss and white, Spain arches and cries out France’s name at the same time France tilts forward onto Spain’s chest- And they both thump back onto the bed covers, a sticky mess of cum between them.

Spain starts laughing.

They both don’t care. France joins in and they’re both laughing, Spain’s free and breezy while France’s is a low chuckle rumbling through the air.

“You over Mario Cart, now?”

France asks and Spain remembers that was what started it all. He doesn’t reply, but answers with an inquiry on just how long it has been since France had it up the ass.

“What?” France asks incredulously before dissolving into another round of chuckles- “Hm, Hungary recently wanted to try out her strap on,”

France says, and lazily wraps his arms around Spain’s neck, rubs his face against his chest. The stubble feels good. “Apparently she thinks all gay sex involves a dick in the asshole. I didn’t bother to correct her.”

Spain laughs, putting his hands between France’s shoulder blades, gently massaging.

“She knows more than you think, actually-  _ah seriously France?_ ” ( France languidly sucks at Spain’s nipples. ) ”Poor Prussia.”

They both smile at the misfortune of their third member before France gives another coy smile- Spain recognizes it as #43.

“But Spain, my good friend- why would you ask how long it was since I had it up the ass?”

He rumbles, and Spain shivers, pleasant goosebumps riding his arms and his skin.

“Perhaps you want it up the asshole yourself?”

Spain laughs again, and it’s bright and ringing.

“ _Round 2,_ France. You, me, my asshole, the shower. I think we have a date.”


End file.
